Strange Aeons [Book 1]

24. The Man with the Silvery Voice [part III]

There was the most awkward moment of silence. Francesca looked at both of them.

«You mean he didn't tell you?» she asked, and Banshee panicked.

«....No?» she tried to say, feeling her mouth drying up. Garaham, on the other hand, had in his eyes a terrible light of late understanding. But it was too late.

«Garaham, you didn't tell them about the transfer? Oh maybe you wanted it to be a surprise and I ruined it all?» now, that was a phony sorry voice. «Garaham had put in his transfer request, he's moving up the ladder. Logistics.» she put on her proudest smile, waiting for the reaction. She saw a strange light pass through Banshee's eyes, as she moved her gaze from her to a speechless Garaham.

Then Banshee smiled.

«Jesus wept, that's great news! A promotion, aye? Finally! Ye work yer ass off so much, ye surely deserve something like that!» she gleamed, extending her hand for Garaham to shake. Taken aback, the man recollected himself and shook her hand, manly, under the eyes of a very taken aback Francesca. «Ye should have told us, I would have made a cake or some muffins!»

«Better this way. You have no idea how hard it is to keep a regular and healthy sugar intake in this godforsaken Country.» Francesca interrupted them. «I'm sure your Coven will find themselves marvelously with your new Enforcer. You know dear, I had half a mind to pour in my father's ear the idea of moving River from the Expendables up to the Pollos. It's true, he's in disgrace, but I think that could be a wonderful way to put him to the test for rehabilitation. After all, they do seem to get along pretty well already. Don't you, Banshee?»

Garaham's jaw clenched visibly.

«River's a good fellow.» Banshee diplomatically answered. Francesca smiled at her. Banshee smiled at Francesca. Garaham deeply wished for a gash to open under his feet.

«I'll leave you to your catching up, I see Councilman Blair beckoning, and I must comply. God, he's so boring. See you later, dear.» she patted Garaham on the arm and floated away like a peach-colored cloud with a golden tail.

The two remained in silence for some moments.

«Believe me, I was going to tell you all. I wanted to tell you the evening of the dinner but...»

«Don't worry, no problem.» shrugged Banshee.

«It wasn't... I didn't want to... I just think that I don't have enough energies to keep up being your Enforcer and...»

«I told ye, ye don't have to say nothing.» Banshee was serious but was eerily calm.

«I feel like I owe you at least an explanation...»

«And there's where ye're wrong. This is yer career we're talking about, and yer a hard worker. If ye want to climb the ranks, it's yer right and a good idea. Yer a good chief, a good organizer, ye deserve everything that makes ye happy. We're not kids, we'll work as much half-assedly as we did under ye with any other Enforcer.» her smiled slightly widened. «I'm not happy not to be able to work with ye anymore, that's fer sure, but I'm not six. We'd still see each other around. Or if not, at least once a year, on a particular night.» she raised her hand and patted him on the shoulder, the opposite shoulder as Francesca's, then turned to reach River again.

«It was before that day. Not after.» he just said. Fast. Low. Banshee stopped in her steps and turned to look at him. There was that something in his eyes, hurt. And a strange anxiety, as if he had perfectly seen that that had appeared in her eyes, too, at the mention of the transfer.